[ Rau tsks with barely suppressed dissatisfaction. He's chased mutually assured destruction for so long that it's tempting to stand and walk away, even if that means a second end. It would be easier than breaking the sharply circumscribed limits of as well as anything.
He considers for several breaths, each one sharper and faster than he would like. He doesn't like easy, in the end. And the possibility of something undefined (tomorrow) really is under his skin now. There's another door to open.
His hand slips from the nape of Gil's neck to a pulse point. His thumb rests just over the artery without pressing down. ]
You have nothing to coerce me with. I would have killed you if you tried before, and I would find a way to kill you if you tried even here.
[ That's the easy part, the part he can say with understated certainty. Not a boast, barely a threat, just a fact. Gil has sent warships and assassins around the world, but Rau started killing as a child. The next part takes another few breaths, another few pulses. Want, want, want. ]
Whatever you want to show, [ the next words are almost opaque -- "I'll let you show" or "I'm willing to see" or "I'm here" -- but only and always, it comes back to want, ] I want to see.
[ And because Rau really will find a way to kill Gilbert Durandal a second time if the man carries on being sanctimonious and treating him like he's a candle at risk of guttering out instead of an unrepentant murderering schemer -- Rau's free hand catches Gil's wrist ungently, rough enough to bruise, and raises it to Rau's temple, to the clasps of the white mask.
Just in case he had the wrong idea and thought this "want" was only about fucking on an existentially-dubious couch. ]
no subject
He considers for several breaths, each one sharper and faster than he would like. He doesn't like easy, in the end. And the possibility of something undefined (tomorrow) really is under his skin now. There's another door to open.
His hand slips from the nape of Gil's neck to a pulse point. His thumb rests just over the artery without pressing down. ]
You have nothing to coerce me with. I would have killed you if you tried before, and I would find a way to kill you if you tried even here.
[ That's the easy part, the part he can say with understated certainty. Not a boast, barely a threat, just a fact. Gil has sent warships and assassins around the world, but Rau started killing as a child. The next part takes another few breaths, another few pulses. Want, want, want. ]
Whatever you want to show, [ the next words are almost opaque -- "I'll let you show" or "I'm willing to see" or "I'm here" -- but only and always, it comes back to want, ] I want to see.
[ And because Rau really will find a way to kill Gilbert Durandal a second time if the man carries on being sanctimonious and treating him like he's a candle at risk of guttering out instead of an unrepentant murderering schemer -- Rau's free hand catches Gil's wrist ungently, rough enough to bruise, and raises it to Rau's temple, to the clasps of the white mask.
Just in case he had the wrong idea and thought this "want" was only about fucking on an existentially-dubious couch. ]